The good ship scones
by Beatlemaniac45
Summary: Scotty/McCoy. Rated for language. I have nothing else to say


**Hi. So, um, not dead. If this has weird errors or doesn't make sense, it's cause it was written at nearly midnight and i was writing an essay at the same time**

 **Disclaimer: if I owned star trek, I'd have better stuff to do than write this.**

"Shit" muttered Scotty, sticking the burnt finger in his mouth for a moment before continuing work on the transporter which was malfunctioning for the 263rd time that week. 'Honestly', he thought to himself, still fiddling with the offending wires, 'why can't people just stay where they were, fixing warp drives and eating sandwiches all day, I just don't know!' because, if he was honest with himself, and he always tried to be, his silver ladie's warp drive was more exciting than her transporter, and what was life without sandwiches anyway? He simply didn't want to know! Sparing a second to glance down at his finger, he winced. Whilst he was no doctor, he knew that plastic melting into a 2nd degree burn was probably not good, and holy fuck, he should go see McCoy, but this was just a five minute job, he could go after he'd finished! This 'just one five minute job' soon became, rather predictably, a 2-hours-and-five-minutes job because, in Scotty's head at least, the _Enterprise_ came before his own health. Unfortunately for Mr Scott, Bones most certainly did not share in this reasoning. Not one bit.

Dr McCoy was almost finished up with his last patient when Scotty finally slunk into sickbay, after being told by Spock, Jim, whoever the current security chief was and at least five stutteringly nervous ensigns that he should go get that checked out. Waving over one of the nurses to complete her treatment and stalked over to Scotty like a predatory animal. "Goddammit, man, what was it this time?" Grunted McCoy, irritabley. "Well, um, there was a wee explosion in the transporter room, about two hours ago and then a-" started Scott, a little apprehensively, 'you're so damn cute when you're nervous,' thought Leonard. Of course, he would never say this out loud, so instead cut him off with a simple, "wait, two hours, why did you not come to me quicker?!" "Um, the silver lady needed fixing?" It was a question more than a statement and feeble at best, as he was not so much focused on his language as he was the feel of Leonard's gentle but strong fingers his own, and exactly how good they'd feel stroking his- no, Monty. Divert from current train of thought before it all went to shit, and McCoy was so disgusted with him, he cut off any level of friendship he felt towards Scotty, and then he'd never feel those legendary fingertips on his body, anywhere, ever again.

Little did he know how wrong he was.

He was brought out of his thought process by McCoy's voice. "Do you really hate my so much you'd risk serious infection or even death just to avoid me?" He ranted, "or does molten plastic in a grade two really not ring alarm bells in your intelligent, machine centered brain?" To tell the truth, the main, if not only, reason Monty had avoided Leonard so long was because the exact opposite was true, and anyway, the good doctor was so undeniably straight, he would likely hate Monty forever, and yes, he knew he sounded somewhere between a hormonal teenage girl and a sulking teenager, but he really couldn't help it.

Meanwhile, McCoy's train of thought was headed in much the same direction. Because really, Scotty always sounded so damn young and cheerful, and would never like a grumpy old git like himself. The fact that, physically, Monty was older than McCoy was irreverent. Worse still was the fact that honestly, he believed every word he'd said and fucking hell, the simple, single statement of 'the silver lady needed fixing' broke his heart in ways he thought were no longer possible. Did Scotty really value his job more than his life? Or was it that he just really hated Leonard? He wasn't sure which hurt more.

Finally, McCoy finished with Scotty's hand and insisted on accompanying him back to his quarters, because it was one am and McCoy was no fool; if the well-meaning redhead went off alone, he'd return to engineering and end up passing out from exhaustion at some point because he wasn't eighteen years old anymore.

The next time Monty saw bones again, he crossed the corridor to avoid him and ignored every attempt the Doctor made to greet him. By logic only justifiable by Scotty, if he ignored bones for long enough, the crush would go away. The problem was that he was beginning to think this was less of a crush and more true love. Unrequited love at that. So he just picked up the pace until he was damn near sprinting, leaving a very confused Leonard McCoy in his wake.

Eventually, there came a point where he just couldn't avoid Leonard any longer. Not that he normally avoided problems, but desperate times call for desperate measures. "Alright," sighed Leonard, "any reason _why_ you've been avoiding me the last few weeks?" Scotty panicked. Scotty tried to run away. It didn't work because Bones's hand was on his shoulder. Scotty remained silent and glued his eyes to the floor. Bones tilted up Scotty's head, forcing him to look up at him with a cocked eyebrow signaling his confusion and demand for an explanation. "I don't know what you're talking 'bout. Avoiding you? No, I've just managed to avoid injury for a few weeks is all," lied the Scotsman with a laugh. Bones wasn't standing for that bullshit, "I'm not talking about in medbay," came the soft reply, "although, by way, I highly doubt you avoided injury for three weeks straight, I'm talking about every time on the corridor, or in the messhall, when I have tried to grab your attention, and you've blatantly ignored me. Why?" Scotty remained silent.

Eventually, McCoy just dragged Scotty down to his office, as he clearly wasn't speaking in the corridor. "Okay, if you're going to avoid me all the time, I need to know why. By avoiding your doctor, your putting yourself in direct danger. I care about you, and your life, even if you don't, so-" he was cut off by Scotty, "wait, you actually like me?" McCoy's eyes widened, "course, you daft sod," Scotty's heart started beating faster. Great now this was gonna be a hundred times worse. "I've, er, I've been avoiding you cause, urm, uh, IthinkImightkindaloveyoubutIknowyou'llneverlovemebackandnowyouprobableyhatemeso-" he was cut off by McCoy's lips against his own. The kiss was passionate and over way too soon. Grinning, Scotty took a breath and smashed his lips back the Doctors, quickly growing heated from months of unvented sexual tension. In fact, at this moment, the walls were not even nearly thick enough to stop the moans of what had very quickly become very inappropriate behavior either scaring off the poor innocent young nurses, or simply turning them beet red and in desperate need of brain bleach.

"Damn it!" Yelled bones, approximately four months later. "What?" slurred Scotty, still half asleep and annoyed at the lack of heat bones's departure had left. "We're both like, an hour late for our shift. Get up you lazy sod!" "'m tired" murmured Monty in reply. A wicked glint appeared in Leonard's eye. "Don't make me tickle you out of bed." "You wouldn't!" Scotty was fully awake now. "I would!" He replied and Scotty was up like shot. When they finally got to their stations, they were both nearly two hours late and in seriously deep shit with Jim. Jim wasn't really angry at either of them, they could tell. He was mainly just happy they'd found each other.

The end


End file.
